Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
When I stopped to rehydrate, I spotted Mom at the edge of the court. She wore a full-blown business suit, confirming my suspicion that we hadn’t bumped into each other by chance.
“Zachary.” She squeezed my cheeks, pushing her Hermès up her arm. “My one and only son.”
I dislodged my face from her paws. “Mom.”
Oh, Constance.
Never one to take a hint, even if it was thicker than a tree trunk.
I’d made myself scarce at the estate the past week, opting instead to whisk Farrow away to The Grand Regent and getaway spots that reminded her of Korea.
“You’re harder to find than a matte alligator Birkin.” She fussed over my sweat, producing an XL sunblock stick from her bag. “Where have you been?”
Inside Farrow Ballantine’s dripping pussy.
“Hell and back.” I slung the tennis racket over my shoulder, wiping the sweat from my forehead. “Why? What do you need?”
I was in no mood to entertain her wants and needs.
In fact, all I wanted was to get back home in hopes of burying myself inside Farrow.
No wonder the system stressed abstinence. One taste, and I couldn’t think of anything else.
Mom huffed. “This is no way to talk to your mother.”
“But it is a way to talk to a woman who is forcing me to marry someone against my will.”
We both froze in the middle of the parking lot. Her, stunned. Me, relieved.
This marked the first time I’d flat-out told her I did not want to marry Eileen. Didn’t want to marry at all.
With the truth in the open, I couldn’t suppress the urge to push back.
“What are you talking about? She’s perfect for you.” Mom began ticking off Eileen’s achievements with her fingers. “Beautiful. Kind. Smart. A doctor. To top all that, she comes from a great family. The Yangs are protective, charitable, and obscenely rich—”
“I don’t care.” I slammed the racket on the concrete road. “I’m obscenely rich, and you know what? My fat bank account and even fatter portfolio hasn’t made me happy. Far from it. I’ve wasted my life trying to achieve more, earn more, own more. I chase safe thrills to fill the void inside me. I don’t need another prize to show the world I’ve made it.”
Mom’s whole body trembled inside that wrinkle-less suit. “What are you saying?”
I knew I’d treaded deep into troubled water. Yet, I took a leap, ready to drown. It was now or never. Forever was a long time to spend with someone you didn’t love.
“I don’t want to marry Eileen.”
“Zachary. You cannot say that.” Mom clutched the Buccellati necklace Dad gifted her on their wedding night. “We already announced it. There was an engagement party.”
“People call off engagements all the time. Oliver and Romeo have a running bet on how long mine will last.”
“What about poor Eileen? You made a promise to her. She’ll become a laughingstock. No one will take her seriously. Or you, for that matter.”
This hit a nerve.
She wasn’t wrong. Both Eileen and I would take huge blows to our reputations if we canned this engagement.
Me, I didn’t care about so much. The only person whose opinion mattered to me never succumbed to societal pressure.
But it wouldn’t be fair to Eileen. Not after I’d committed to our arrangement.
Still, what would hurt more? Entering a marriage where neither of us could stand one another or a temporary blow to the ego?
“For the longest time, I let you and Celeste Ayi manage my personal life by proxy—simply because I never cared to develop one. I know better now than to let this snowball into a situation that will be disastrous for both me and Eileen. I’ll speak to her and let her know my decision.”
“Shh.” Mom peered around at the club members roaming the grounds in their cushioned golf carts. “They’ll hear us.”
She grabbed my arm, leading me to the back of a private cabin. Her touch seared through my skin but didn’t make me want to spew vomit.
Laughter tickled my throat. If I weren’t so furious, I’d be elated. Farrow was fixing me. One touch at a time, she made other people’s touches less revolting.
Mom crowded me against a wall, flipping her Birkin open. She snatched an inhaler, wedged it between her lips, and took three hits.
I frowned. “What are you doing?”
“I’m having…” Her lower lip curled in disgust. “…anxiety. Dr. Shahi also gave me pills, which of course I won’t take.” She shoved the inhaler back into her bag, shaking her head. “Oh, it’s fine. Don’t look at me like that, Zachary. We both know my life hasn’t been worth much since your father passed away.”
Cheap psychological warfare, but it worked like a charm. Guilt slithered into my gut, spilling over like lava.
Mom meant it, though.
I knew it.
She had one purpose in life. Me.
Whenever I forgot that, it took all of two seconds to conjure the words Ayi once shouted that jerked Mom out of her zombie state.